


News Over Dinner

by phngi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Family, Gen, Spoilers, Sports, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 22:10:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7455735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phngi/pseuds/phngi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Oikawa family gathers for dinner and Takeru thinks about his uncle Toru's volleyball career. Or, my seven-page essay on why Oikawa Toru deserves recognition for being a fantastic character.</p><p>"… Flinging the door open with the gusto of a game show announcer, Toru leaned into the room beaming away like sun itself, wavy brown hair bouncing as he moved. His brilliance faded slightly as his eyes fell on his nephew who was standing but two feet away and scowling intensely with the words “GAME OVER” on the shining screen in his left hand."</p>
            </blockquote>





	News Over Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after the second Aoba Johsai vs. Karasuno match during the Miyagi Spring Tournament (spoilers if you haven't read/seen it).

Three purposeful knocks in quick succession echoed through the house, reaching even Takeru’s room upstairs despite being a little muffled by the closed door. His ears pricked up slightly at the sound and he paused in the middle of his handheld video game to glance at the window facing the street. Sure enough, a grayish blue sedan was parked in the driveway behind the household cars. If the guests had arrived already, he’d be called downstairs soon to have dinner with everyone after his parents made some small talk by the front door, which meant less time than he’d like to finish this level. He loved them of course, but why he had to put on a polite show with relatives that lived so nearby, he’d never know. His thumbs were a blur as he tapped buttons furiously, dodging attacks and slashing at monsters.

Sure enough, his mother’s singsong voice sounded out from the floor below just a few moments later. “Takeruuuu! Wash up and get ready, they’re here!”

“Mmmf yeah okay, I’m coming!” he hollered back, standing up clumsily since he refused to take his eyes or either of his hands off the gaming system. Just a few more combo attacks and the boss was done for! He began taking zombie-like steps toward the door, fingers whizzing across the buttons, procrastinating the moment when he’d have to switch off from being a young boy and turn into a polite angel for his grandparents while also putting up with the stupid grins and immature jibes of –

“TAKE-CHAAAN are you in here?!”

Flinging the door open with the gusto of a game show announcer, Toru leaned into the room beaming away like sun itself, wavy brown hair bouncing as he moved. His brilliance faded slightly as his eyes fell on his nephew who was standing but two feet away and scowling intensely with the words “GAME OVER” on the shining screen in his left hand.

Toru blinked, then pouted. ‘..Why are you looking at me like that…”

“…Nevermind. Shouldn’t you knock?,” Takeru sighed, switching the console off and placing it on his bookshelf. “What if I’d been changing or something?”

“Oh that’s true, that’s true - I might have made you feel insecure about your lack of any upper body muscle.” Toru said, nodding seriously. “Don’t worry Take-chan, you’ll get to my level one day!”

Staring at his so-called mature, responsible uncle sticking his tongue out and making inane jokes at a kid, Takeru couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re just a dumb pretty boy, I’m already more of a man than you are,” he shot back, flexing his small arms, continuing their usual sibling-like banter while they left his room and hurried to the stairs before the adults of the Oikawa family could get too impatient.

“Have you been practicing? Or have you been too distracted by games and girls?” teased Toru, punching his nephew lightly on the arm as they walked.

Takeru pulled an exasperated face that yet had some truthful admittance lurking behind it. “I’ve been practicing! And girls are scary. But there’s more to life than volleyball anyway…” he mumbled, feeling guilty. Toru always got under his skin in a way that the other kids at school never could, even without meaning to. It wasn’t in a seriously agitating way or anything, but rather…his uncle was someone he wanted to impress. Not that he’d ever admit it. If he did, Toru would announce it to the family chatroom and probably wouldn’t let him live it down for anywhere between twenty years and…well maybe the rest of their lives. With Toru’s flip-flopping personality, he was an odd mix of the older brother you wanted to make fun of and mess with, and the older brother you wanted to keep untouched, gleaming on a pedestal.

Wearing his ever-present saccharine smile, Toru stretched his toned arms and clapped Takeru on the shoulder. “I suppose you’re right, for most people,” he replied cheerily, jumping the last few steps. “Either way, I’ll be able to tell the next time I test your serves…Hey, Nee-san…”

Takeru watched as his uncle trailed off and went to greet his mother, Toru’s sister, who promptly waved away the niceties and then told him off for having tracked dirt into her house.

“Look at all the grime on those running shoes! I remember what your sneakers looked like back when you were in middle school and that was before you were training every waking moment of your day – “

“…Nee-san?”

“Yes?”

 “You get more and more naggy the older you get. So, pretty naggy.”

Several minutes later, when Toru got out of the headlock his sister put him in, she softened her Oikawa family trademark gaze of steel and considered him. Her eyes looked up to meet those of the kid brother who had finally grown taller than her in the past couple of years, and swept over his trained muscles, tight from constant practice, and came to rest on his right knee. “Toru…I know you don’t really care about me saying this right now but don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re only in high school, you know.”

Toru raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Easy as always for you to say, Miss Perfection Incarnate! But you really don’t have to worry about me…” he glanced at Takeru who was standing behind his mother. “A captain’s job is to make the team’s talent bloom to win.”

“Cheesy,” said Takeru flatly as he turned on his heel and strode into the kitchen to help his father bring the dinner dishes out to the dining table.

The scene was perfectly idyllic – a family spanning three generations, talking, laughing, gathering bowls, chopsticks, and napkins as Takeru’s parents loaded steaming entrees onto the table and Toru’s parents unveiled the decadent desserts they had brought. The beginnings of lighthearted stories about what happened at work or at school during the week floated over the sound of chairs scraping across a tile floor, followed by a collective shuffle as everyone settled into their seats and scooped up their utensils. Of the scents lingering in the air, from the roasted meat to Toru’s mother’s perfume, the most unmistakable fragrance was the feeling of being home. There was no shortage of conversation as everyone dug into the dishes before them and the evening seemed to settle around them.

“Hey,” began Takeru after a while, elbowing his uncle while trying to finish stuffing a piece of duck into his mouth. “What round is your big spring tournament on now? How long until you get to fight Shiratorizawa?”

Even being largely oblivious in his young age, Takeru didn’t miss the awkward glance exchanges and brief silence that swept through the table like a sudden chilly breeze. His shoulders hunched instinctively, drawing himself slightly inward out of confused discomfort. He snuck a look at his mother who had a strange expression on her face as she eyed Toru, as though she wanted to smile out of sadness.

“Oh, the Miyagi prefecture tournament?” Toru responded casually as though his nephew had been asking about the weather from last week and scooped up another bite of food with his chopsticks. “Actually, we lost our match yesterday against Karasuno. Well, who would have thought those unflying crows would rise so far above their station?” He placed another morsel of rice and fish in his mouth, chewing happily. “Sorry, Take-chan, I won’t be able to beat Shiratorizawa after all.”

Takeru froze, eyes widened and fixed on his uncle. “…O-oh…but…”

“Ah, but you Seijoh boys put up such a fight! It was quite the game, Hajime’s spikes are getting stronger every time I see him play! I’d say you’re still the better team overall. Those crows just got lucky in the end when it got down to the wire.” Toru’s father commented kindly.

“Oh you don’t have to say that, Dad,” Toru’s tone was pleasant as he reached for another piece of fish. “After all, Karasuno’s got Tobio-chan as their genius setter…of course Tobio-chan wouldn’t be where he is without observing my moves but anyway...We put out 120% but I guess Karasuno managed to squeeze out a little bit more. Nee-san, this mackerel is great, could you make it for me again sometime?”

While the adults took Toru’s cue to change the subject (“What am I, your personal chef?” – “I thought older sisters were supposed to take care of their younger brothers!” – “I’ll think about it if you clean my floors”), Takeru racked his brain for a moment before remembering the weirdly desperate black-haired boy who had ambushed them that day after Toru’s coaching session at Lil Tykes Volleyball Classroom. Toru probably still had that picture on his phone…and his parents called _him_ the baby of the family…

But how could that kid have beaten his uncle, the popular captain of powerhouse Seijoh? It didn’t seem like they were on equal footing when this Tobio had literally chased Toru down and begged him for even one scrap of advice. And wasn’t he younger by a few years? Surely that huge guy with the scary face from Shiratorizawa should have been the one to beat Toru if anyone…

He picked up his chopsticks again and continued eating, but more slowly now as he stole glances at his uncle sitting on his left when possible. Of course Toru was acting completely normally; genial attitude, calm demeanor, chuckling at the right jokes, reacting to the right stories. But since mentioning Tobio, something wasn’t quite right. The high school senior’s eyes seemed to lose focus from time to time, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. Losing that match must have hit him hard. That was understandable, though, it had only been a day.

High school senior…

…Toru would never be able to face Shiratorizawa again. He wouldn’t be leading Seijoh anywhere again. He wouldn’t be perfecting his tosses with Iwaizumi-san again. Takeru gripped his utensils more tightly. But…that wasn’t fair. Well, no, it was fair, Karasuno probably won fair and square. He was old enough to understand that in life and in volleyball, you won some, you lost some. It was a team sport, and things like this happened sometimes. Yet seeing Toru in the aftermath of defeat like this just didn’t feel right. He felt an urge to protest that Tobio still had years of more tournaments to accomplish this kind of dream, that Tobio hadn’t earned it, but he knew that was just his childish gut reaction. Toru was taking it like a man.

Once, Takeru had overheard Iwaizumi-san and Toru talking outside the Volleyball Classroom gym as they parted ways after Seijoh’s after-school practice. Most of the conversation hadn’t been as interesting as what his other friends had been talking about, but his curiosity had been piqued when they started referring to someone called “Mad Dog”. What an odd name, like a street gang or something, except it was unlikely that anyone who could afford to go to Seijoh would be part of that crowd.

“You’re sure about this? We’re so close to the Spring Tournament and throwing in a guy like this could upset the team balance…” Iwaizumi had said, frowning.

“Mmm…I know. It sounds crazy when my job as a setter is to bring out the best in everyone – “

“ – and as captain – “

“Right. But…he might be the extra push we need to evolve and get going again, like a defibrillator. He’s got a lot of potential, you’re the only one who’s physically stronger than him, Iwa-chan. And he wants it. Oh he won’t admit it, but he’s itching to get in the game and he’ll do what it takes to win, I can tell. I mean if Karasuno can train the little shrimp up to spike like that…”

Iwaizumi had eyed him carefully. “You’re sure this isn’t just about staying above Kageyama?”

Toru had smiled blandly. “Who are you, my therapist? No, this isn’t about Kageyama, it’s about Karasuno, and all the teams that lie beyond. I guess you could say they’ve inspired me. The shrimp is a wildcard, something you can read after a few observations if you’re smart, but he’s crazy enough to take the kind of risks that win points. If we’re going to keep up and beat both them and Ushiwaka like we said we would, we might need something like that on our side. Trust me, it’ll rile up our guys enough to start growing, and the first and second years need some motivation. After all, the team with the better six is stronger, right, Iwa-chan?”

“...Alright, you’re the boss anyway,” Iwaizumi’s tone had been mockingly flippant but his grin was genuine. “But if you’re wrong about Kyoutani, you’re buying me ramen, Trashykawa.”

That had been about the point where Takeru had stopped listening. He’d completely forgotten about that conversation until now.

It wasn’t a secret that his uncle worked day and night to perfect his volleyball game. His grandparents always complained that Toru was pushing himself too hard or not concentrating enough on his studies, though he still received top marks somehow. He was obsessed. Even Takeru knew that Toru’s ex-girlfriend had dumped him for spending more time on the court than on dates. Still…wasn’t there a sort of dignity in that?

Takeru’s mother had tried to explain her little brother to him a few times, just before they had moved back to the Miyagi prefecture. “He’s a piece of work, that one, but I can’t wait for you to get to know him. What’s he like? Well…Toru can be incredibly whiny and petty, so, just make sure you don’t learn that from him. Hajime-kun once told me some of his classmates think he’s two-faced but you know Takeru…he might have the potential to be horrible, but he really isn’t. My brother is the kind of person who just knows what face to put on at the right time with the right people in every situation. I think his adaptability is what helps him win, more than anything. Come to think of it…he’s a politician! Except…in a way, Toru’s also one of the most genuine people I know. He won’t lie, he’ll always admit when he’s better or worse than someone else, and he’ll never cheat. That kid…for as long as I can remember, working hard just came naturally to him.” She’d paused here and looked out the window, reminiscing for a moment about the times she’d visited home and little Toru would return from a junior high match, celebrating only briefly before jabbering on about what he could do to improve next time regardless of whether he’d won or lost. _“That’_ s something you’re allowed to learn from him. I think he’ll be a great coach for you when you join Lil Tykes.”

“But…that just makes him sound really intense,” Takeru had said, unconvinced that this uncle of his would be a good fit for teaching children who just wanted to have fun. Winning would be nice but really he just wanted to learn to play…

His mother had smiled and shaken her head. “Oh you don’t have to worry about that. I’ve seen Toru with his high school team before. Let’s see, how do I explain it…he brings out the best in people by adjusting to them, not forcing them to do what he does. He always asks the team what he can do to make the toss easier to hit.” She’d mimed a set and spike, giggling. “And you don’t have to take him too seriously. It’s a little hard to sometimes.”

“What do you mean?”

“…You’ll understand if you spend enough time with him.”

It turned out to be true. In their previous interactions, Takeru had been too young to remember or really form an opinion about his uncle, but in their first Volleyball Classroom session, Toru had been so excited to document the process of teaching his nephew that it had felt like a photoshoot. Click, click, click went the flash on Toru’s phone camera. Wasn’t this guy, standing there taking selfies and making silly nicknames for all the students, the same person mom had said was ridiculously intense about volleyball?

But at the end of the lesson, by popular request, Toru had demonstrated his jump serve. Besides the fact that this big, tall high-school student had been reveling in praise from a bunch of primary school children, Takeru was impressed beyond belief that day. The calculated precision, the fluid buildup, the speed, the power – the magnificence of the entire move had seemed worlds beyond the children’s capabilities. And more than that, it was in that moment that Takeru caught a glimpse of how serious Toru was about volleyball. Eyes that had been mischievously playful and silly just seconds beforehand turned cold and focused, dead-on like a hawk preparing to swoop in on its prey. Those were the eyes that had been earning his uncle’s rumored nickname, The Great King.

“Take-chaaan, are you okay?”

Takeru snapped out of his reverie and back to the present as he felt Toru poke him repeatedly on the left cheek. More time had gone by than he thought. Dinner had already finished and the adults were chatting by the door, gathering coats and bags, while he and Toru dawdled absently a short distance away. He looked up at his uncle with feigned annoyance to mask his pity. Now, The Great King’s reign was at an end.

“I’m fine,” he pushed Toru’s hand away. “You’re the one who…” His face turned red, flustered, not sure what encouraging words he could say to someone who was so much older. But shouldn’t he say something? They were family after all…

“You’ll get them next time! Whoever they are! There’ll be another enemy because you’re not going to stop playing volleyball!”

Blinking in surprise at the kid’s sudden outburst, Toru couldn’t muster more than “…eh?” in response.

“Tch, idiot uncle, I give you all that and you respond with ‘eh’ –“

“Of course I’m not going to stop playing volleyball.”

Takeru stopped spluttering out of embarrassment and looked up at his uncle who was staring at him as though he’d just suggested the sky wasn’t blue.

“You know…it sucks to lose, it really, really sucks,” said Toru calmly, soft smile on his face. “But I don’t regret anything. I don’t regret going to Seijoh, or being their captain, or the way we played. You shouldn’t worry about me, Take-chan…” He was still looking at Takeru but his eyes suddenly seemed to be seeing someone or something else as they burned with an almost crazed determination and he cracked a wide grin. “I’ve got enough worthless pride to last me until my next victory.”

After all the goodbyes and til-next-time’s were said, and Takeru’s mother finished giving Toru a bone-crushing hug, the half of the Oikawa family that didn’t live there trooped out to their car and drove off toward the downtown area of the city, going home. Takeru watched them leave from the window and then began to walk away, past the kitchen where his parents were washing up the last few dishes. “Going up to finish that video game of yours?” his mother called.

“No, just getting my sneakers,” he replied simply as he continued to walk until he reached the short shelf of shoes by the door, crouching down to slide his feet in and lace them up.

“Sneakers?” she repeated, poking her head out of the kitchen to look at him. “Where do you think you’re going this time of night?”

“Well you know, mom…” He remained on the ground, rummaging for something in a large box of miscellaneous items. “I’m not going to get any better if I just sit here.” He straightened up and smiled at her in what he hoped was a cool, grown-up kind of way as he held a volleyball in his hands.

She burst out in joyful laughter. “You’re right. Get back in by ten for a shower and bed, your father will make sure of that.”

He was already halfway out the door and waved behind him to indicate that he’d heard. The flimsy volleyball court they’d set up in the backyard gleamed in the early moonlight and seemed to hold a sort of honor for him now which he hadn’t noticed much before. He stepped back several paces behind the back base line and swung his arms in a purposeful arc, from the hips up to his shoulders, just like his uncle had taught him. As the ball soared up to the top of the toss, he thought of every practice Toru must have had up to now, every interaction with the ball that contributed toward his transformation into a living extension of the court, masterfully aware of every moving object’s position in space and time in conjunction with the players’ moods, habits, and dreams, all condensed into one knowledge base that bred itself into existence through the barebones medium of hard work. He took a running start, lowering himself to the ground before springing up, arms thrust into the air as if he could spike one of the stars, and slammed his hand into the ball as it fell back to earth. It collided with a satisfying sound, only to fly straight into the middle of the net. Yet Takeru was still smiling as he ran, panting, to retrieve the ball. He was feeling a little bit of that worthless pride himself.


End file.
